Instead of answering he led her forward to the dais on which the nine little horses were the observed of all observers, where the _tourneur_ stood with his assistant with, in front and on either side of him, the tables about which the players were grouped. At the moment the leaden steeds were whirling round. She watched them, fascinated. People were speaking on their right. "_C'est le huit qui gagne_." "_Non; le huit est mort. C'est le six_." Someone said behind her, in English:-- "Jack's all right; one wins. Confound the brute, he's gone right on!" The horses ceased to move. "_Le numéro cinq!_" shouted the _tourneur_, laying a strong nasal stress upon the numeral. There were murmurs of disgust from the bettors on the columns. Miss Donne perceived that money was displayed upon baize-covered tables. The croupiers thrust out wooden rakes to draw it towards them. At the table on her right there seemed to be only a single winner. Several five-franc pieces were passed to a woman who was twiddling a number of them between her fingers. "Are they gambling?" asked Miss Donne. "Well, I shouldn't call it gambling. This is a little toy by means of which the proprietor makes a good and regular income out of public contributions. These are some of the contributors." Miss Donne did not understand him--did not even try to. She was all eyes for what was taking place about her. Money was being staked afresh. The horses were whirling round again. This time No. 7 was the winning horse. There were acclamations. Several persons had staked on seven. It appeared that that particular number was "overdue." Someone rose from a chair beside her. Mr. Huhn made a sudden suggestion. "Sit down." She sat down. "Let's contribute a franc or two to the support of this deserving person's wife and family. Where's your purse?" She showed that her purse--a silver chain affair--was attached to her belt. "Find a franc." Whether or not she had a coin of that denomination did not appear. She produced a five-franc piece. "That's a large piece of money. What shall we put it on?" Someone who was seated on the next chair said:-- "The run's on five." "Then let's be on the run. That's it, in the centre there. That's the particular number which enables the owner of this little toy to keep a roof above his head." As she held the coin in front of her with apparently uncertain fingers, as if still doubtful what it was she had to do, her neighbour, taking it from her with a smile, laid it upon five. "_Le jeu est fait!_" cried the _tourneur_. "_Rien ne va plus!_" He started the horses whirling round.